After dinner and a decadent dessert of black forest cake and frozen sweet cream, Felias sends me off toward my room. He reminds me to make myself at home, promising to come by in the morning before his duties as host undoubtedly overwhelm his attention. I’m exhausted by the time I make it back to my chamber and as excited as I was earlier, I don’t so much as glance toward the tub. A bath sounds amazing, but I just might fall asleep and drown if I try to take one now.
I head to the wardrobe and pluck the small pouch of herbs out of the interior pocket of my cloak. I untie the sack and give it a sniff, wrinkling my nose when it’s met with the pungent, bitter smell of earth and citrus. Experience tells me it must taste as bad as it smells. I pinch a tiny bit between two fingers and place it on the back of my tongue preparing for the worst.
I’m delighted when the herb dissolves almost immediately, leaving a faintly sweet taste behind. I will have to find out what it’s called. If it works as well as I suspect it will, the knowledge of the herb will be a valued addition to my already abundant list of homemade concoctions.
After returning the pouch to the hidden pocket of my cloak, I hang my dress and crawl into bed. I moan as my body slides under the silk duvet.Nothing should feel this good. Stretching my body out between the sheets, I wiggle my toes.
I will not become accustomed to silk.
But I might as well enjoy it while I’m here.
My eyes grow heavy, and my mind follows soon after into a blissful void of dreamless sleep that I’ve sought for years. The last thought skipping across the surface of my mind before I fade—him.
CHAPTER 10
THE MANOR, A’KORI
Present Day
“You’re certain this is appropriate?” I ask in utter disbelief.
My eyes are wide as saucers, cheeks a shade of crimson, as I stare at my reflection. The dress adorning my flesh is not one of the gowns sent by Leanna. It is one that Felias brought to my room late in the morning.
Gownmay in fact be a bit of an overstatement for the flimsy gossamer creation draped over my body. The skirt of the dress is slit high on both the right and left side and while I can appreciate the enhancement for range of motion in combat, it also reveals my bare flesh to the hip when I walk. The bodice is far more modest, yet not modest at all. It is cut wide across the shoulder, the neckline low, exposing the gentle slope of my breasts before they are hidden within the pale, too-thin fabric that might as well be sheer for all it hides. Its sleeves are blessedly long, tapering at the ends where they extend beyond my wrists to cover half my hand, though too tight to conceal any weapon.
“Quite appropriate. I had them made so that you wouldn’t feel out ofplace. It is a typical A’kori design. You will see many in similar fashion at the party tonight.”
Felias had in fact had my wardrobe filled with dresses sewn in like design. He had forcefully batted my hand away when I reached for one ensemble that offered the comfort of a loose pair of pants that fit snuggly at the ankle. Those were apparently only worn during activities that risk exposing too much skin. I hadn’t asked how much was too much. It is obvious we have vastly different opinions on the subject.
My uncle has a light breakfast brought to my room and we sit by the window overlooking the garden discussing his plans for the evening. The man has no idea what manner of Drakai they sent him when he tells me that I have a simple task for the night. Be charming, and he will make all the appropriate introductions.
Charming has never been my strong suit. One of the many reasons I was shocked to receive my mission. It is clear the La’tari king feels that my feyn looks will endear me to the nobles of A’kori. All I can do is hope that it’s enough.
Felias resupplies the names of those he deems important enough for me to befriend, worried I’ve somehow already forgotten. Abruptly, the rusty haired male comes through the door, out of breath, forehead boasting a thick layer of sweat, rambling something about a fire in the foyer. While both he and my uncle hurry from the room, there is an overall lack of surprise that makes me wonder what sort of peculiar incidents must be commonplace when you live your life alongside a gifted race.
The large tub in the washroom calls to me and I grin like a fool when the simple pull of a lever has it filling with steaming water. I draw the sliver of jasmine soap from my cloak and step into the tub, reveling in the scent of it as it glides over every surface of my body. My nipples pebble when my hands slide across them, now acutely aware of the pleasure that can be derived by a nimble set of fingers. There is an ache between my legs, an emptiness that mirrors the vacancy in my heart, a feeling that I bury before it can be fully recalled.
I set the soap aside in a small tray and step out of the water, leaving my thoughts to empty down the drain along with the last of the dirt thatclung to me from my previous life.
The cushioned chair overlooking the garden has already become my favorite place to exist within my expansive suite. Shelves stacked high with all manner of thick and ornately bound books line the windows. Small pieces of art hang on the walls, speaking of the stories contained within the pages nearby. Blustery voyages across turbulent seas. Foreign lands with colorful markets and vibrant cities. Every image and tome a harsh reminder of how little I’ve experienced of our world.
I open the window and let the temperate breeze assist in drying my hair. Leaning into the wind I tilt my head to the side, straining to hear more of the soft feminine voices coming from the grounds below, but they are snatched away before I can discern them. I prop myself up on the window ledge and lean out to survey the garden, finding not a soul among the flower lined paths below.
Curious.
Leaving my hair unadorned, it cascades down to my lower back in a plethora of dark spirals. Pulling on the dress Felias gifted me for the party, I make my way outside to explore the grounds for any tactical advantages they might hold. The entire estate is bursting at the seams with feyn and human alike, all bustling about in festive attire, working hard to complete their tasks before the first guests inevitably arrive early.
The quiet solace of the garden is a welcome reprieve and a welcome distraction at that. I’ve never seen so many flowers in bloom and suspect Felias may have a healthy supply of gifted feyn to assist in the exquisite floral displays throughout the estate. Slinking under the shade of a tall oak, I close my eyes, breathing in the living bouquet that surrounds me.
If only I could bring a piece of A’kori back to the La’tari. How long has it been since my people had fertile soil to plant in? The smell of the flowers sours when I think of their gifts being wasted on something as trivial as a garden party while children starve across the sea.
It is clear the feyn king will let every human outside of his rule waste away into nothing before sending a single one of his subjects to help my people. And for what reason? Power?
He deserves to die for the atrocities he committed during the war,and he deserves to die again for his indifference to suffering that he has the power to end. I’ve never taken a life, his will be the first, and I will relish each and every one of his dying breaths. Watching the light fade from his eyes will be the one memory I will live happily on for the rest of my life.
“You!” A deep voice booms across the lawn and straight up my spine, stiffening it as my eyes fly open.
A tall male with broad shoulders and an icy glower stalks toward me, the black leather of his pants creaking with every agitated stride he takes in my direction. The breeze flutters the black fabric of his tunic and loose strands of midnight hair fall over his stormy blue eyes. A long silver scar, stark against the olive tone of his skin, runs from his right temple to the back of his head and there is a small nick in his pointed ear where a blade must have clipped him. His full lips are drawn into a tight, thin line that does nothing to amplify his natural feyn beauty.
